It is an eerie experience to write something into a novel, believing it is pure fiction, and to learn later on — perhaps years later — that it is true.

Some weirdly interesting Gnostic stuff follows, but at the end the essay takes an unexpected turn from religion into ethics:

The authentic human being is one of us who instinctively knows what he should not do, and, in addition, he will balk at doing it. He will refuse to do it, even if this brings down dread consequences to him and to those whom he loves. This, to me, is the ultimately heroic trait of ordinary people; they say no to the tyrant and they calmly take the consequences of this resistance.